


Magically Hopeful, Hopefully Magical

by crackerjackermackeral



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Friendship, Gen, Hufflepuff Harry Potter, Humor, Male-Female Friendship, Muggle Culture, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackerjackermackeral/pseuds/crackerjackermackeral
Summary: "Hey, uh...""Hm?" He looked back at him, smile still in place.Hajime waffled for a moment, he but decided to just get on with it. "Does the name Hope's Peak mean anything to you?"Draco stared at him, eyes slowly growing wide. For a while, he didn't say or do anything—it was as if he was frozen in time. Hajime was suddenly convinced that Souda had somehow stuck him back into the Neo World Program as a joke and the whole thing was glitching. By the time he got out of here, he was going to give the mechanic an earful.But then the kid spoke up."Hinata-kun?"Reincarnation fic where Hajime is Harry and Nagito is Draco.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Hinata Hajime & Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 31
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hajime and Nagito are psychologically in their mid to late thirties, so they'll naturally be different compared to their teenage counterparts.

Hinata Hajime didn't know how he died or if he really did die. He didn't know if he was stuck in a coma and was lucid dreaming—or how he could even think with startling clarity despite the lucid dreaming. Regardless of the reason, he knew that he was Harry Potter, a British kid in the nineties. It had taken him a few years to adjust to his new identity, but here he was. 

If him growing out of his diaper days and picking up the English language hadn't been hard enough, it was the strange incidents that would persistently follow him. 

Appliances breaking at his touch occurred way too frequently to be coincidental, and the minor explosions taking place at school weren't something that he could brush off. There had been other instances too, such as when a teacher that he disliked had unwittingly showed up with her wig turned blue, or the time when the ugly sweater that Aunt Petunia had foisted onto him had conveniently gone from pig-sized to doll-sized in the washer. 

And if he took into account how his parents were dead, how his adoptive family hated him, and how he could talk to snakes, then it all lined up perfectly. He had Komaeda's luck.

Well, he wasn't sure how luck explained the reptilian powwow that had taken place in the zoo, but he supposed that he probably had a mental disease that caused him to withdraw from reality. Schizophrenia? Hell, Komaeda had dementia and cancer, so why not?

But in all honesty, the circumstances weren't that awful. Sure, he was an orphan, but his parents had died before he had gotten to know them. And, sure, his aunt, uncle, and cousin treated him like dirt and forced him to sleep in a spider-infested cupboard, but he had endured worse.

So, yes, while his situation wasn't ideal, it wasn't bad. He could deal with his crappy family, and he could deal with ancient nineties technology and the intense Japanese food cravings and the awkward cultural adjustment. He could deal with how he had reincarnated backwards in time, and how he was cursed and blessed with luck. He could deal with how he had been stuck in the body of Harry Potter a bit over a decade without an answer from the universe. 

Because years of putting up with his friends' bullshit made Hinata Hajime adaptable. 

Even when a giant hairy-ass man came busting through the door on his flying motorcycle to tell him that he was a wizard, he could... _somewhat_ deal with it.

* * *

As it turned out, he didn't have luck screwing him over; he had magic. And his parents had not, in fact, been killed in a car crash; they had been killed by an evil wizard named Voldemort.

Also, Hajime was famous, apparently.

To prepare him for his first year at magical school, Hagrid took him to a magical dimension where he could purchase all sorts of magical shit. At first, it had been cute, as in, "Yeah, sure, Hagrid. I'm a wizard. Whoo hoo, let me get my staff and live my life DnD style." Later, it had become a little too weird. Hagrid had tapped on a brick wall, and then a street had opened up before them. And gathered on the street had been people adorned in robes and pointy hats. 

No matter how much Hajime would like to think that he had been dragged into a secret cult where everyone cosplayed as witches, he couldn't deny the veritable livelihood that existed based on freaking _magic._ He had entered a magical bank, had spoken to goblins, and had gotten himself wizard currency. He had walked past a flower shop with singing tulips.

Hajime just couldn't understand it.

What the hell was this? Had this magic world always been here? Or was he in an alternate plane of existence?

As Hajime tried to wrap his mind over this discovery, Hagrid ushered him into a clothing store where he could be fitted for his uniform. 

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin, a smiling squat lady in mauve, said. "Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

The woman led Hajime to the back of the shop. There, a pale blond boy stood on a footstool while another woman was pinning up a long black cloth against his body. Madam Malkin had Hajime stand on the footstool next to him before taking his measurements.

"Hello, there," the boy greeted him pleasantly. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yeah," Hajime grunted, still dazed by today's events.

"First year?"

"Yeah."

"How exciting! We might be classmates!" the boy enthused, and then he laughed. "Oh, but we'll be classmates regardless of what house we'll be sorted into. Say, what house do you think you'll be in? Frankly, I like all of them, but I'm particularly drawn to Gryffindor. Gryffindors are known to be the brave and chivalrous—it has a rather inspirational quality to it, don't you think? Unfortunately, my parents would soon disown me if I ever get sorted there—not that they would, but they rather I become a Slytherin."

"I...see..."

"Although, I think I'm better suited for Ravenclaw above all else. I'm definitely not intelligent or wise or clever by any means, but I do think that I'm at least someone who loves to learn for the sake of learning! It's a more notable trait of mine, I hope. I mean, I can hardly say that I'm hardworking like the Hufflepuffs or ambitious like the Slytherins."

The boy suddenly smiled brightly at him. "By the way," he chirped, "I'm Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you."

Hajime nodded in response; at the same time, his mind was racing. That rambling, that self-deprecation... He was distinctively reminded of Komaeda. 

If Hajime was here in this world—if this was actually another world and not his own—then could it be possible that his friends were here too? He didn't know what the chances of that being true, and he still had yet to make sense of his situation. Was this a reincarnation? Was this a dream? He had no idea, but...if he was going to be stuck here, he didn't want to be alone. 

Although, he wasn't sure if this boy really was Komaeda or someone else. This Draco kid could just happen to be similar to Komaeda. A friendly, talkative, insecure kid, not unlike how Komaeda had initially presented himself to be before he had gone off the rails and had staged an attempted murder.

Still. Hajime wanted to find out.

When the women left them alone to retrieve other items necessary for their fitting, Hajime took in a breath before breaking the silence. 

"Hey, uh..."

"Hm?" He looked back at him, smile still in place. 

Hajime waffled for a moment, he but decided to just get on with it. "Does the name Hope's Peak mean anything to you?"

Draco stared at him, eyes slowly growing wide. For a while, he didn't say or do anything—it was as if he was frozen in time. Hajime was suddenly convinced that Souda had somehow stuck him back into the Neo World Program as a joke and the whole thing was glitching. By the time he got out of here, he was going to give the mechanic an earful.

But then the kid spoke up.

"Hinata-kun?"

Hajime stared back.

Draco gaped at him. _"Hinata-kun, is that really you?"_ he whispered, the Japanese fluidly coming out of his mouth despite his stuttering. 

_"Holy shit,"_ Hajime returned. _"Holy shit. You're Komaeda, aren't you?"_

 _"Hinata-kun!"_ Komaeda cried out cheerfully.

_"K-keep your voice down, will you?"_

* * *

When Hajime told him that his name was Harry Potter, Komaeda's smile dropped. He cupped his chin and hummed contemplatively. Hajime arched a brow at this.

_"You know me, obviously."_

_"Ah, well, Harry Potter is renown for being the Boy Who Lived."_ The smile returned. _"Harry Potter, the one who survived and defeated Voldemort when just a mere babe. Of course I know about you, Hinata-kun."_ Komaeda tilted his head to the side. _"Although, I never would have imagined that Hinata-kun and Harry Potter are one and the same."  
_

 _"Imagine my surprise to find that you're also here."_ Hajime gusted out a sigh. _"Do you think that the others are in the same boat?"_

_"Possibly? Granted, I think I would have noticed them sooner if they resided in the Wizarding World like me. You know, given their colorful personalities."_

_"You were pretty quick to recognize me,"_ Hajime noted. 

_"That was just a lucky guess!"_ he chuckled.

The boys fell silent when the women came back. It didn't take long for them to finish, and Hajime gladly hopped off of the stool. Komaeda followed suit and trailed after him to the front of the shop. 

Hagrid could be seen lingering outside of the window. The hairy man grinned as he raised two ice cream cones that he held in both hands. Hajime waved at him.

 _"Your parents are dead, so I'm assuming that he's the one who's taking you school shopping?"_ Komaeda turned towards him. 

_"Yeah. Hagrid. He's Hogwart's_ _gatekeeper."_ Hajime felt conflicted. He wanted to talk to Komaeda some more—ask him about his new life as Draco Malfoy and how he was doing. The blond also mentioned living in the Wizarding World. Did that mean that he grew up here? How was that like? Did that explain how he knew about those houses? Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff? What did houses have to do with Hogwarts?

At the same time, though, Hajime didn't want to keep Hagrid waiting. He knew that if he conversed with Komaeda anymore, then they would wind up chatting for hours. And, well, ice cream. Hagrid had ice cream. Hajime hadn't had ice cream in _years_.

Komaeda came to a conclusion for him. _"My parents will be expecting me soon. We'll see each other when we take the Hogwarts Express, Hinata-kun."_

Hinata-kun. Hinata. It felt weird hearing his own name after all this time. He wondered if it was the same for Komaeda.

 _"Yeah,"_ Hajime said. _"See you then, Komaeda."_

When Hajime left the shop, Hagrid handed him the ice cream before glancing curiously back at the window. "Did ya make a friend, Harry?"

"Mm. Something like that." Hajime sank his teeth into the treat (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts) and then made gasping gagging noises. His lips flapped desperately as he tried to bear with the chilliness. 

Hagrid gave a rumbling laugh. "Yer not supposed ta bite inta ice cream!"

The two of them made themselves at home on a bench to eat. In the meantime, Hajime asked him about the four houses that Komaeda had talked about.

"They're school houses that ye get sorted into before ye start yer school year. Hufflepuff fer the hard workin', Ravenclaw fer the smart, Slytherin fer the cunning, and, last but not least, Gryffindor fer the brave."

Hajime slowly nodded. "So, we're sorted into one of these houses based on our characteristics?"

"That's right. Both of yer parents were Gryffindor, so ye might be one too."

He considered that. They might have had been his parents, but they hadn't been, well, his parents in actuality. He inherited their physical attributes (or so he figured; his aunt and uncle had never shown him pictures of them), but his personality hadn't changed. He was still Hinata Hajime no matter what his name or looks might be. 

And was Hajime even brave? At least, in general? Everyone had called him brave when they had learned that he had been the one to rally the survivors into shutting down the Neo World Program. Hajime supposed that he had been brave when he had chosen to take on the future despite the uncertainties that had laid before him. And hadn't he been brave when he had tried Mioda's souffle surprise?

However, instances of bravery didn't make a person brave entirely. And when he thought about describing himself as courageous, it didn't sound right.

"How do they do the sorting process?" Hajime asked. 

"You'll find out once ye get ta Hogwarts," Hagrid chuckled. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hajime found himself impatient for the month to end. He would never admit it aloud, but he was eager to go back to speaking with Komaeda. However, there was nothing to do other than to wait.

He busied himself by taking care of his new owl that Hagrid had gifted him on a whim. She was a snowy white barn owl with no discernible personality as far as Hajime could tell. Just an owl. But Hajime wasn't the Ultimate Breeder, so what did he know? She could be an elegantly reserved owl. As most owls were. He thought about poking her with a stick to see if he could incite a reaction, but he didn't because he wasn't an ass. 

_Tanaka would have liked her_ , Hajime thought. He decided to name her Gundham out of stupidly sentimental reasons. 

In the duration of his wait, Dudley stopped harassing him, too intimidated to do anything after Hagrid's impressionable entrance. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon no longer kept him locked in up the cupboard, now allowing him to move into the room where Dudley used to store his toys. They also stopped making him do the chores, which was nice, but they also behaved as though he wasn't there. It became depressing after awhile.

When the day finally arrived, Uncle Vernon dropped him off at the train station, and then bid him a snide "Have a good term." Hajime watched as his family nastily laughed among themselves before driving off. He wondered what that was all about. 

After trying to find his train stop, it didn't take him long to figure out why.

"Do you think that I can guilt-trip someone into giving me a ride home?" Hajime muttered to Gundham. Gundham cocked her head before preening the feathers under her wing. "I guess not."

As Hajime moped about his nonexistent ride to school, someone suddenly whispered into his ear.

"Yoo hoo!"

"Ack!" Startled, Hajime spun around, finding Komaeda standing there with an amused smile stretched across his face. _"_ _Komaeda!"_

_"You look rather upset. Is something wrong?"_

_"Is something wrong?"_ Hajime repeated, a tad incredulously—both at the question and how they were just going to forgo greetings. Whatever. _"_ _Unless you can tell me where Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is, I'm afraid that I'll be running late to school."_ He exasperatedly waved at the space between Platform Nine and Platform Ten.

 _"That is a problem,"_ Komaeda concurred cheerfully. _"_ _It's a good thing that I'm here, then."_ He gave a cursory sweep of their surroundings and then stepped into his space. Without preamble, he lifted Hajime's bangs with one hand and slapped a cold film on his forehead with the other. Hajime gasped and stumbled backwards, shocked. 

_"What the fu—"_

_"Concealing sticker,"_ Komaeda informed him. _"It'll hide your scar. When you meet my parents, introduce yourself as Leon Ludenberg. Try to fake an accent if you can."_

_"What the—"_

Komaeda brushed past him, striding ahead. Hajime froze momentarily before hurrying after him while pushing his cart. Among the jostling sea of people, Hajime somehow managed to keep the boy within his periphery. Komaeda ambled towards the dividing barrier between the two platforms, not once slowing down his steps. Before Hajime could think about calling out to him, the blond vanished.

Hajime blinked.

Komaeda popped back into existence. _"_ _Aren't you coming?"_

 _"Komaeda,"_ Hajime said very patiently, "explain."

 _"It's a magical wall. You have to walk through it in order to get to Platform Nine Three-Quarters."_ With that said, he vanished again.

 _"I said to explain,"_ Hajime groused. He rubbed his temple and scrutinized the barrier. After a few seconds of loitering, Hajime decided, screw it, might as well give it a try. It really must be a magical wall if Komaeda had disappeared and reappeared like it was nothing. If not, then the worst that could happen would be him crashing against the barrier in public, and then for Komaeda to take off his invisibility cloak to tell him that it was a prank. 

Hajime tightened his grip on the cart's handle and then plunged forward with a burst of energy at his heels. He reflexively shut his eyes before he made impact with the wall. Only...there was no impact.

There was a shift in the atmosphere. Where it had been noisy before, it was noisier now. Around him, there was a denser mass of people, all gathering before a scarlet steam engine. Children dragged their trunks behind them, chattering loudly as though to not have their voices be drowned out. Owls hooted to one another from their perch on the girders, and cats yowled as they meandered around moving legs.

There was a sign overhead that read "Hogwarts Express." Hajime turned around to see "Platform 9 3/4" printed on the iron archways from the barrier that he had exited from.

 _Why didn't Hagrid tell me about the wall?_ Hajime thought irritably. Had Komaeda not found him, he seriously would have missed his ride.

Despite the inconvenience, Hajime found himself marveling at the train. As though being in the nineties hadn't been historical enough, they had to board on a mode of transportation that dated back even further. What was next? Was their school a medieval castle? 

"Leon," Hajime heard Komaeda call out. Komaeda was standing next to an empty compartment of the train, waving an arm in his direction. "Over here!"

It took Hajime a moment to remember what Komaeda had told him before. Why did Komaeda want him to pretend to be...Leon Ludenberg? Did it have to do with his alleged fame? And how long did he expect Hajime to keep up the act? 

When he neared Komaeda, Komaeda took Gundham's cage and studied her keenly. _"You have a beautiful owl,"_ he said. _"What's its name?"_

 _"Gundham."_ The second after he answered, Hajime immediately felt stupid. Komaeda's smiling face didn't change and he didn't say anything, but Hajime deemed it appropriate to tell him, _"Shut up."_

_"Huh? But I didn't even—"_

_"Shut up. Just help me unload."_

After they put away all of Hajime's belongings, Komaeda grabbed his wrist and dragged him away. There were two well-dressed adults who he was making his way towards. Upon seeing how they resembled Komaeda, Hajime realized that they were approaching his parents. 

"Draco, there you are," the father said. The man lifted a delicate brow when he noticed Hajime. "Who is this?"

"I apologize for running off, Father, Mother, but I found myself a conversation partner for the long trip to Hogwarts," Komaeda replied serenely. "His name is Leon."

At the piercing stares coming from both parents, Hajime became uncomfortable. He wasn't one to be self-conscious of his appearance, but he didn't like the quiet judgment that they were giving him, assessing his ratty hand-me-downs and scuffed-up shoes to his floppy hair. Well, pardon him for not looking his best. Not everyone had the money to buy fancy robes, you pretentious pricks.

Komaeda discretely cleared his throat, causing Hajime to stammer out, "J-ja. I ahm Leon Ludenberg. It is a pleashure to make your ackquaintance."

"Hm." The man imperceptibly bobbed his head in acknowledgment. "I am Lucius Malfoy, and this is my lovely wife, Narcissa Malfoy."

"Where did you say you were from again?" Narcissa inquired.

Hajime was confused. He didn't?

"He's from a remote village in Germany," Komaeda chirped. "His family specializes in raising nogtails." What on earth were nogtails?

Nothing good if the sneer on the woman's lips was telling. Not bothering to disguise the disdain in her tone, she said, "Is that so?"

"What brings you to Hogwarts, Mr. Ludenberg?" Lucius asked. "I'm sure that there is already a fine establishment in Germany, is there not?"

There was? Hajime glanced at Komaeda for help, but the guy didn't speak. Objectively, he knew that if Komaeda answered for him every time, things would look suspicious for them. But, seriously, what the hell. Komaeda was the one who got him into this mess, and now he was going to abandon him? Ugh, that was so like him.

Hajime quickly racked his brain for a response. "F-family," he mustered out. "Mah parents wahnted me to attend Hogwarts for da educashun."

There was a pause. Hajime waited for the parents to speak; meanwhile, it seemed that the parents were waiting for him to add on to what he had said. When it was obvious that he wasn't going to speak anymore, the father narrowed his eyes while the mother pursed her lips. Leon Ludenberg wasn't doing a good job impressing the folks, evidently.

If the Malfoys wanted to press for more information, they didn't show it. Much to Hajime's relief, they turned their attention onto Komaeda. "Crabbe and Goyle's sons are waiting for you on the train. It will be one of the compartments towards the back."

Komaeda's happy countenance fell apart as he pouted glumly. 

"Now, Draco, behave yourself," Lucius warned, although the teasing lilt betrayed his amusement. "I know you have a proclivity to wander about and meet new people—" with that said, he cast a dry glance in Hajime's direction "—but we must stick to our kind."

Yeesh. 

"Oh, my sweet boy, please don't let your curiosities get you into trouble," Narcissa sighed. She cradled Komaeda's face and peered into his eyes fondly. "You know that we know how you can be if you let your interests get out of hand."

Hajime waited to feel that pang of loss at the display of parental affection that he never got to have, but he felt nothing. He supposed that things like familial warmth were seldom an issue with him; even after he had woken from the program, he hadn't thought much about his own parents—Hinata Hajime's parents, that was.

Admittedly, he wasn't too upset about having the Dursleys as his adoptive family. Yes, the circumstances weren't ideal, but they were more annoying than anything. And, sure, he would prefer a pair of doting parents over estranged relatives, but it was nothing to lose sleep over. Besides, if the situation had to be one way or the other, Hajime would gladly take on the Dursleys if it meant that Komaeda would finally get a taste of permanent happiness.

"Oh, well, if I must," Komaeda said with a slight huff. "I will be good, Mother, Father."

After a round of hugs and kisses and head pats, the Malfoys separated from their son, allowing Komaeda and Hajime to board the train. Hajime caught one last glimpse of the couple, seeing the affection lingering on their faces. Komaeda really was lucky.

After they slipped inside, Komaeda whispered to him, _"That was an awful accent."_

Komaeda really was an ass. Hajime responded by delivering an elbow thrust to the chest.

"Ugh." Komaeda cupped the bruise, bending over. "Your love hurts, Leon."

 _"Don't call me that,"_ Hajime told him flatly. _"Why'd you make me meet your parents?"_

_"I didn't make you. You were bound to meet them regardless of whether I had a hand in the situation or not. I mean, we will be sitting together, after all."_

_"What about..."_ What were they called again? Crab and Gargoyle? _"What about those guys who your dad said are waiting for you?"_

 _"Vincent and Gregory? They'll be with us too."_ With how Komaeda said it, he wasn't pleased about the arrangement. Hajime raised an eyebrow at that. So, Komaeda hadn't been pretending in front of his parents, then. _"I know that you don't want to keep being Leon Ludenberg, but, until we arrive at Hogwarts, could you keep up the act? At least, in front of Vincent and Gregory."_

Without thinking, Hajime's hand drifted to his forehead where the sticker was still in place. _"I'm guessing that it'll be troublesome for them to know who I am."_

 _"You guessed correctly."_ Komeada spun on his heel and sauntered onward. "Let's go, Leon."

With five minutes left until the Hogwarts Express's departure, the passengers had yet to find themselves a place to sit. Children ran up and down the elongated corridor, hollering to one another and slamming the sliding doors of the compartments. Hajime was a little disgruntled by the racket the brats were making and was disgruntled with himself for being such an old man.

He glanced at Komaeda who was smiling amusedly at the liveliness. Compared to him, Komaeda seemed to be taking on the role of a child seamlessly. His parents had coddled him and had cooed about his childish antics.

Hajime's teachers, on the other hand, had expressed perturbation at his lack of interest in being involved with his classmates and playing their games, probably assuming that he had been a psychopath in the making or something. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been unconcerned, naturally, while Dudley had accused him many times for being a know-it-all.

Hajime hadn't been appealed by acting his "age," but now... Well, maybe now he ought to enjoy the carefree luxuries that came with childhood. It wasn't like he would get this opportunity to be a kid again—unless he reincarnated again.

After opening and closing a few compartments with apologies given in between, Komaeda finally found the one that he had been looking for. Sitting across from each other were two thickset boys with mean-looking faces. _Bulldogs_ , Hajime made the comparison in his head. Gundham...probably wouldn't like these kids despite the resemblance.

"Vincent, Gregory! It's good to see you two again," Komaeda said with flourish, spreading his arms apart. He moved to the side to reveal Hajime, who had been standing behind him. "This is Leon Ludenberg!"

"Hey," Hajime greeted, not bothering with the accent. 

One of the boys twisted his face into a scowl. "Did you bring a mudblood in here, Malfoy?"

"His parents raise nogtails," Komaeda told him curtly, his smile still in place.

The boy's brows furrowed before nodding in acceptance.

"Anyway, I come bearing gifts! A token of celebration for us to have come this far." From the depths of his robe, Komaeda pulled out two bags of cookies. Instantly, Vincent and Gregory's eyes lit up with delight as they perked up. They eagerly snatched the bag from his hands and tore into the wrapping, scarfing down the treats with relish. Hajime was reminded of Dudley. 

Komaeda took a seat and patted the space next to him. Hajime complied, only because they had plenty of things to discuss and they didn't need anyone listening in to their conversations. However, as it turned out, the discreteness wasn't needed because Vincent and Gregory passed out soon afterwards.

 _"I mixed the batter with a sleeping drought,"_ Komaeda said. _"They'll be out of it for three hours."_

Hajime leaned back, disturbed. _"You just drugged children, Komaeda."_

_"Don't worry! It's harmless."_

Hajime opened his mouth to counter that—Komaeda's definition of what counted as "harmless" was questionable at best—but he was cut short when the train started to move. Houses and buildings ran past the window, and eventually the train took them out of the suburbs and to long green plains. And here were these two boys, already snoozing on their very first trip to Hogwarts. Hajime felt oddly guilty even though he wasn't the one responsible for ruining their grand experience.

His eyes landed on the kid who had given him that nasty look, remembering the strange word that he had mentioned. _"_ _Say, Komaeda, what's a_ mudblood _?"_

Komaeda stiffened. _"Ah, Hinata-kun, I strongly advise you not to utter it aloud,"_ he said, thinning his lips. _"It's a derogatory term made for Muggleborns."_

 _"Oh."_ He crossed his arms, canting his head to the side. _"Is it on par with Reserve Course?"_

Hajime only intended it as a joke, maybe even prod at Komaeda at his expense, but what he didn't expect was for the guy to take it seriously. _"Even worse!"_ Komaeda blurted out in dismay. _"To speak down to those without a pure magical lineage is disgraceful, and it pains me to know that my own parents happen to think the same way."_

_"Ah..."_

_"You see, there are members of the elite who believe that blood purity is tantamount to superiority. They're also the ones who believe that the magical community should be isolated from the rest of the world, but that shouldn't be the case at all!"_ Komaeda inadvertently pitched his voice louder in his excitement. _"The world should know about the existence of all magical beings! That way, we wizards and witches can spread hope to mankind with abilities that the Muggle World isn't privy to!"_

Hajime recalled having a similar conversation with Hagrid, one about Muggles and magic. Hagrid, who certainly looked nothing like a member of the elite, had said that it would be best if magic was kept as a secret from Muggles. Otherwise, everyone would be reliant on spells and witchcraft to fix their problems, or so Hagrid had put it. But everyone already depended on technology for the same reason, and, years from now, everyone would grow to become more dependent. 

When Hajime had pointed this out to the hairy man, Hagrid had dismissed it, saying how technology couldn't hold water to magic no matter how advanced it would become. Hajime, having lived in an age where touch-screen devices and AIs existed, hoped that Hagrid would live long enough to eat those words. 

_"Is there some other reason as to why the magical world is kept a secret?"_ Hajime wondered aloud.

 _"Well, there's the witch burnings, but that took place in America."_ Komaeda waved a hand. 

_"That probably is enough to scare everyone to go into hiding, don't you think?"_

_"But how disappointing is that? Instead of overcoming that fear, they let it fester and eat at them. Why, look at what they did to Voldemort! Instead of being able to say his name, they label him with a moniker to mitigate the scariness,"_ he tutted. 

If being wary to say a name was ridiculous, then wouldn't the avoidance of a derogatory term be ridiculous as well? Hajime wanted to say that just to be contrary, but he already knew what Komaeda would say. Voldemort struck fear into the hearts of men whereas "mudblood" was just offensive. Hajime didn't know the degree of the affront, but, judging by how Komaeda had reacted to the word, it probably was something really bad. 

Hajime also knew Komaeda well enough to know that, no matter how insane he might come across as, he did and said things with good intentions, hence why he expressed his belief about helping Muggles despite the exposure. It sounded a lot like his usual "suffer and overcome despair to birth hope!" spiel, come to think about it. 

In this world, Komaeda technically shouldn't have had his luck, right? Even when he was living his life as an... Well, not quite an ordinary boy. Maybe an ordinary magical boy? Even when he was living his life as such, would Komaeda still retain his philosophy of hope and despair?

Hajime looked at him, contemplative. Years after the Neo World Program, he had mellowed out, keeping his fanaticism to a minimum, but Komaeda was still Komaeda. And although it had been ten years since Hajime had last seen him, _Komaeda_ _was still Komaeda_. Hajime was worried as to what sort of trouble the other guy would bring, albeit he happened to be curious at the same time. 

He returned his attention to the slumbering boys. Hmm. Frankly? He was more worried than curious. 

_"These kids' parents are part of that elite you mentioned, right? They seem to believe what their parents believe, so I'm guessing that they're not really your friends?"_ Hajime asked. 

_"More like political allies,"_ Komaeda said sadly. _"My father and their fathers thought that it'd be best if we were to become 'friends.' But, well, the arrangement is anything but that."_

 _"Must be tough being a rich kid,"_ he drawled.

 _"It hadn't been in my previous life where my parents died and I inherited all of their money,"_ Komaeda hummed, _"but I must admit that this life doesn't grant me a lot of liberties."_ He shook his head. _"But enough of me! There is one thing that I'm curious about, Hinata-kun. If your parents are dead, who's taking care of you? I can't imagine anyone leaving the Boy-Who-Lived at an orphanage."_

 _"You ask me that now?"_ Hajime proceeded to tell him about his home life, to which Komaeda replied with a sigh.

_"Ah, it's a pity that you didn't reborn as Draco Malfoy and I as Harry Potter. Cleaning is the only thing that I'm good at and I have plenty of experience of being treated like trash."_

_"The one person who's the most frequent offender is you,"_ Hajime retorted. _"_ _You've never been kind to yourself."_

_"But someone like me—"_

_"Isn't worthy of kindness. Yeah, I get it."_ They had this conversation a million times already. _"Do you act this way in front of your parents?"_

 _"Oh, heavens, no!"_ Komaeda chuckled. _"If I did, they would—well, actually, I'm not sure. But I'm sure that they'd do something drastic."_

A drastic action for a drastic boy seemed appropriate.

Komaeda might brush it off as inconsequential, but it hadn't escaped Hajime's notice that Komaeda's eyes had shone the same kind of affection as his parents.

* * *

After letting Komaeda buy him food from the snack lady (Komaeda had been insistent and Hajime had skipped breakfast), they talked about the houses in Hogwarts. 

_"I think Hufflepuff would suit you splendidly, Hinata-kun!"_

_"Hufflepuff,"_ Hajime murmured. _"Sounds cute."_

_"Do you have anything against cuteness?"_

_"Hm."_ He tapped his chin. _"Harry the Hufflepuff."_ Hajime frowned. _"Ugh, it's like a title to a children's book. No, it doesn't suit me."_

_"I disagree. It's very fitting! It almost sounds like Harry the Hedgehog. Ha! Hajime the Hedgehog! If you had your old hair, then it'd be a name meant for you!"_

Without thinking, his hand drifted to the top of his head. _"What about my hair?"_

_"It was very prickly. Like a hedgehog. Or maybe a chestnut?"_

_"Oh, yeah, I remember you calling me the Ultimate Spiky Hair."_

Komaeda barked out a laugh. _"Ah, I remember that too!"_

_"My hair isn't spiky now. It's just messy."_

_"My hair isn't like my old hair either."_ Komaeda ran his fingers through his tresses. _"It's straight and smooth."_

_"Yet no matter what incarnation we are, you're still pasty white."_

_"Hehe."_ Komaeda smiled. _"But aren't you pasty yourself, Hinata-kun?"_

_"It's not as obvious. I mean, what with your hair, you look like a sheet of paper."_

_"I'd say that the contrasting colors of your hair and skin make you even paler."_

Their debate on who needed more Vitamin D was cut short when a round-faced boy knocked on their door and peered through the clear pane. When Hajime, the closest to the door, opened it, the boy shyly popped his head through.

"Sorry to be a bother, but have you seen a toad?" the boy whimpered.

"No, but we have a chocolate frog." Komaeda lifted a small box. "Would you like one?"

"That's alright," he replied morosely. "I'll take my leave." And with that, the boy left. 

_"Poor kid,"_ Komaeda said, shaking his head. _"To lose a pet right before school starts."_

_"Not going to comment on how this could be an opportunity for him to overcome despair?"_

_"Such a small-scale loss isn't enough to create even a dose of hope!"_

Shortly afterwards, another child came by This time, it was a bushy-haired girl who, without preamble, marched right into the compartment and announced, "We're looking for Neville's toad. Have you seen one?" Sheepishly trailing behind her was the same round-faced boy from before. 

"He already visited us, and we already told him that we haven't," Hajime informed her, eyeing her Hogwarts robes. Why was she already wearing that thing?

"Is that so?" Her eyes zeroed in on Vincent and Gregory slumped over in their seats. "Are those two already sleeping? Goodness, how can they nap at a time like this?" She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "I mean, it'll be a while before we arrive at Hogwarts, but I can't imagine being so exhausted already!"

That tone, that bossiness... Hajime was distinctively reminded of Koizumi.

"Koizumi Mahiru?" Hajime said hopefully.

The girl frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

He deflated. "Oh, uh. Never mind."

Hajime didn't see it, but he didn't need to in order to know that Komaeda was grinning at him. 

"My name is Hermione Granger," the girl told him primly. " _Not_ Koisoomi Maru." She then harrumphed. "If you wanted to know my name, all you needed to do was ask."

"I'll keep that in mind," he muttered, a tad baffled by how he was getting reprimanded by a kid twenty years his junior—and on _manners_. Of all the things to happen in his life, he hadn't expected this.

"Now that I've introduced myself, may you do the same?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy," Komaeda chirped. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Leon Ludenberg," Hajime said. "Likewise."

"Say, do you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor—it sounds by far the best. I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad," Hermione said. And then, totally forgetting how she had asked them a question to which they hadn't answered yet, she said, "Anyway, we better go and look for Neville's toad. You two better change. I expect that we'll be there soon." 

Like a whirlwind, Hermione left, taking Neville with her. 

_"She just said that it'll be a while until our arrival,"_ Hajime deadpanned.

 _"I can't believe that you thought she was Koizumi-san,"_ Komaeda giggled.

_"Shut up. There really might be a chance that our friends are here like us, you know?"_

_"Of course. Oh, I nearly forgot."_ Komaeda's expression smoothed over, appearing serious. _"_ _There's something important that I must tell you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early on when Nagito first met Crabbe and Goyle, he tried using their given names in order to establish bonds of friendship with the kiddos. Crabbe and Goyle weren't having it since Nagito came off as a weirdo. Nagito still refers to them as Vincent and Gregory out of habit. Hajime inadvertently calls them that too since Nagito does.


	3. Chapter 3

Hajime perked up at that. _"_ _What is it?"_

_"When we're at school, we should keep our interactions to a minimum."_

Well... Hajime didn't expect to hear that. Keeping his emotions hidden beneath a neutral expression, he asked, _"Why?"_

 _"As you know, my family is part of the upper echelon of the magical world."_ At Hajime's nod, Komaeda continued. _"The thing is, those with power and prestige consists of people known as purebloods. I mentioned how they're the ones who believe that Muggleborns should be excluded from wizard society,_ _yes?_ "

" _Yeah. What about it?_ "

_"That's because they believe that having outsiders, regardless of their magical ability, intermingling with those with a long magical heritage will dilute their magical power. As such, I come from a long line of wizards and witches, making me a pureblood, The same can be said for Vincent and Gregory."_

_"Which explains why one of them asked if I was a—_ _and pardon my language—_ mudblood _, right?"_

_"That's correct. As sad as it sounds, this close-minded thinking has influenced the children into believing the same dogma."_

This time, Hajime didn't hide his frown. _"Didn't think we'd have to play with politics at this age."_

 _"More for me to delve into than for you at the moment,"_ Komaeda remarked mildly. _"In any case, there are several pureblood families who aligned themselves with Voldemort in the past, including my family. Even with Voldemort gone, the purebloods still uphold his ideologies."_

That was surprising to hear. With how Hagrid, including the other wizards and witches that Hajime had met, had behaved when mentioning the dark lord, Hajime didn't think that there would be anyone who would voluntarily side with a renown bad guy.

But with certain beliefs and principles deeply ingrained in the wizarding culture, it was starting to make sense. A bit. There was also an inevitability that Hajime would get dragged into this mess just for being the Boy-Who-Lived. 

Hajime could tell that the world that he was about to enter probably wasn't going to be wholly welcoming to Muggleborns. He had seen the way Hagrid had been dismissive towards Muggles—his relatives, in particular—and how Komaeda had to cover up for him in front of his parents and the boys.

He still didn't know what nogtails were, but he figured that they were animals native only in the magical world, and being the son of a nogtail farmer was apparently better than being an interloper. 

That partially explained why Komaeda had him pretend to be Leon Ludenberg; the other half of the reason obviously would be Hajime's celebrity status. How dangerous would it be for Harry Potter to reveal himself before a pair of Voldemort devotees? Komaeda's familial situation was looking a bit dimmer now.

To receive all that love, and for what? To be groomed into becoming the next evil henchman? 

_"How deep are you in this for being a Malfoy?"_ Hajime asked. 

Komaeda smiled wryly _. "Pretty deep."_

_"Oh."_

_"Why, Hinata-kun? Are you worried about me? How kind of you! I'm touched that you can find it within your heart to care about someone like me."_

_"No need to put it that way,"_ Hajime sighed, rolling his eyes. Komaeda being Komaeda would say that regardless of how many years they had known each other. And Hinata being Hinata would play along because he was a slave to routine, being as unoriginal and dull that he was. _"_ _O_ _f course I care about you. You're my friend, after all."_

Komaeda gasped dramatically. _"Hinata-kun, I'm touched! To hear you say that always brightens my day!"_

And whenever the other man—boy—would say things like that, Hajime would sometimes wonder if Komaeda actually meant what he said or if he was being sarcastic beneath that layer of effusiveness. Hajime had learned a while ago not to think too much about it. _"I'm sure that it does. Would we still have to avoid each other if we were in the same, uh, House?"_

 _"I don't think so. Our interactions would be inevitable, otherwise, but I sincerely doubt that we will be sorted to the same place,"_ he said, a strange smile gracing his lips.

Hajime wanted to question that, but Komaeda moved on to another topic.

The remainder of the train ride was spent discussing how they could sneak out and meet up. They talked about bypassing the teachers or anyone who would monitor the halls at night. However, with neither of them knowing what a British boarding school was supposed to be like, much less a magical one, the subject ended earlier than expected.

They considered passing notes, but the thought of doing that long-term didn't seem feasible. Even if they did find little nooks and crannies for them to tuck their messages in, only for the the other to find, just how long would it take for their peers to catch on? Also, again, this was a magical school. What if there were, say, mischievous fairies flitting about? And what if they outed them on their exchange to the public? Yeah, no go for that idea. 

That was when Komaeda suggested that they use two-way journals. 

_"What's that?"_ Hajime asked. 

_"I'll have to ask my father to buy one for me, so it'll take awhile for us to use them. But, anyway, it's basically texting, except you got to write instead of type,"_ Komaeda provided.

_"That tells me nothing. You're just giving me the false hope that we'll finally be able to use touchscreens."_

_"It's the nineties,"_ the other boy laughed. _"Of course not!"_

Gosh, Hajime hated the nineties, solely because of the lack of touchscreens. 

But, hey, they got to learn magic, so the trade-off wasn't all that bad, right?

* * *

The uniform was as standard as any school uniform went: Button-down shirt, tie, and slacks. The only addition was the black robe that hung off of Hajime's shoulders like a very long and baggy cardigan. He pulled the hood on, letting it drape over his eyes, and then flicked it off. 

_"I thought that wizard clothes would be potato bags with ropes for belts. You know, the ones that European monks wore in the seventeenth century."_

_"What a surprise it must have been for you went you entered Diagon Alley, seeing all those well-dressed wizards and witches,"_ hummed Komaeda.

 _"Don't give me attitude, Komaeda,"_ Hajime deadpanned.

When the train had reached its destination, Vincent and Gregory came to, groggily rubbing their eyes with their pudgy fists and loudly smacking their lips. They woke up like how drunken middle-aged men would, Hajime thought with wry amusement. 

As though in tandem, all the doors to the compartments slammed open. Children flooded into the corridors like a mindless mass, and Hajime sighed in grief at the sight. Before he could consider backing away and waiting for the throng to thin out, Komaeda cheerfully shoved him forward, causing him to be swept away by the traffic.

Freaking Komaeda.

After pushing and shoving his way out of the train, Hajime breached from the jostling crowd to a welcoming reprieve, only to be vacuumed into another crowd. 

"First-years! First-years over here!" bellowed a familiar voice. A lamp glowing to keep the night's darkness at bay bobbed above everyone's heads. Next to the lamp was a hairy smiling face. "All right there, Harry?"

Hajime offered him a thumbs-up.

“That's me lad! C’mon, follow me. Any more first-years? Mind yer step, now! First-years follow me!” 

The man led the group of ten-year-olds away from the rest of the other children, pulling them deeper into the darkness. Hajime could barely see where he was stepping, only knowing that he was trudging along a steep and slippery path. He grunted in mild annoyance. No one told him that he would be hiking his way to school. 

“Yeh’ll get yer first sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder. “Jus’ round this bend here.” 

He motioned his hand before them, which an enormous lake spanned before them. Behind the lake was a grand castle, erected among craggy rocks as clouds drifted past its high towers and turrets. Hajime would have been impressed if not for the body of water separating them from the school. What, they had to swim across now? Were they in boot camp?

Suddenly, emerging from the lake's edge was a narrow path that connected to the shore. There, a fleet of rowboats sat along the sandy line. Okay, they weren't going to swim; they were going to row themselves to school. Still a workout. 

"No more than four to a boat!” Hagrid called, lumbering to a boat for himself. Hajime approached the nearest boat that was promptly occupied by three other kids. He looked around, finding no oars. 

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid. “Right then— _forward_!”

In one seamless movement, the Hajime's boat pushed off the shore and into the lake, gliding across the waters. He gasped in surprise, reflexively gripping onto his seat. Floating alongside his boat were the others. The children's eyes were wide with awe, some of them peering over the walls as if they could see what was propelling their vessels.

Right. Of course. He was going to attend a magic school. Of course they wouldn't have to exert themselves needlessly.

One self-automated boat ride later, everyone hopped out of their boats and onto what appeared to be an underground harbor. Hajime wondered if the older children would follow suit or if they had another way of entering the school. Perhaps this was part of the student orientation?

“Oi, you there! Is this your toad?” Hagrid called out.

“Trevor!” Neville cried happily.

While there was no need for rigorous rowing or swimming, they still had much land to cover. Hagrid then took them up a flight of stairs until they reached a large wooden door. The man gave three pounding knocks before stepping back, and then the door opened. 

A stern-faced woman in green robes, who Hagrid referred to as Professor McGonagall, greeted them. She pushed the door wider to allow the children entrance and strode forward with a purposeful, perfunctory gait. Everyone stumbled after her like lost ducklings. 

Hajime surveyed his surroundings, taking in the stone walls and marble floors. Above, there were rows of torches lighting their path. How medieval. Fit well with the RPG ambiance. 

The brief school tour ended when McGonagall stopped shortly after entering a small chamber. The children huddled together, nervous anticipation rolling off of them in waves. The woman spun on her heel and spoke clearly to the students, "Welcome to Hogwarts.” 

“The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses," McGonagall continued. "The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."

She went on to explain the Houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin each possessed a history of their own and had produced their fair share of well-known witches and wizards. There was a mention about earning and losing House points, which made Hajime scrunch his forehead. 

House points? So was that how they got the children to behave? And what was so great about winning the House Cup besides gloating rights? Did they get a party or something?

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting," McGonagall told them, her gaze sweeping meaningfully across the sea of children.

Many of them immediately began to adjust their uniforms and flatten their hair. There was no point in fixing Hajime's hair, though; it was a beast of its own.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” she said. “Please wait quietly.”

When the clicks of her footfalls had fallen silent, the children burst into bouts of whispers. They wondered what House they would be sorted into and how they would be sorted. One boy said that his brother had warned him about the process being painful, but he then added that his brother could have been joking. 

_I'll say_ , Hajime thought. What sort of sickos would make a bunch of kiddos go through pain for a personality test? Why did they need a personality test, anyway?

Then, out of the blue, screams sounded off somewhere in the back. Hajime jolted in alarm. 

He didn't need to turn around to see what had caused the panic. Flying over their heads were twenty opaque people—no, _ghosts_. There was nothing outwardly frightening about them aside from the fact that they were ghosts, which was actually frightening enough for Hajime to stiffen up. 

The ghosts welcomed the children gaily, apologizing for Peeves's—whoever that was—hijinks. No one replied to the floating dead people, too stunned and spooked to utter a word. 

So. Ghosts. Ghosts were apparently magical. Magical enough to exist here.

Soon enough, McGonagall returned, shooing away the ghosts like an exasperated matron chiding a bunch of rowdy kids. They obeyed by diving past them and phasing through the opposite wall. The woman then commanded the children to form a single line and follow her down the same path that she had disappeared to. 

Hajime shuffled into place, feeling a bit exhausted from the experience. Ghosts, man. Ghosts.

* * *

Ghosts and talking hats. 

The Great Hall, an expansive and decorated dining hall with thousands of lit candles hovering high above, was certainly impressive to behold. Already occupying the long tables were the older students, divided accordingly by the color of their ties and robe linings. Were first-years exempt from being color-coded or did they have to purchase another set of uniforms? Hargid didn't tell him about this!

Indeed, the Great Hall was great, but not as great as the sentient singing raggedy hat.

Hajime wanted to find Komaeda and rant to him. This was just too much.

(How the hell were those candles not dripping wax on everyone?)

When the hat had finished its ditty about daring Gryffindors, friendly Hufflepuffs, nerdy Ravenclaws, and Slytherins making real friends with the cunning, everyone loudly applauded for its performance. The hat tilted itself forward, creasing itself, before springing back up. Oh, it was bowing. 

As Hagrid had said, they would be sorted according to their strongest trait. But what happened to the children who possessed none or all of the qualities that the hat had listed? Kids were simple in who they were, but they were nonetheless people, and people were inherently multi-faceted. There was no way that a gathering of random children could have one of the four qualities fitting for their respective House.

For that matter, how was it that each House table possessed a seemingly equal amount of students? Did the hat judged the first batch and then directed the leftovers to whatever House that didn't have enough kids?

Hajime, for his part, was skeptical that he could fit into any House. Well, besides Hufflepuff, but affability certainly wasn't a virtue that he could boast to anyone. Maybe Ravenclaw? He felt disinclined about entering Gryffindor; something told him that being a part of that House would bring him baggage about his dead parents. As for Slytherin... If he had a choice, then he would heed to Komaeda's warnings. 

McGonagall stepped onto the stage with a long parchment that fluttered down to the length of her arm—and McGonagall had a long arm. Oh no, was that the list of names? He knew that there were quite a lot of them, but seeing the parchment cemented just how much. Hajime wanted to groan. They were going to be stuck here for a while.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she instructed. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A girl staggered out of the line and skittered to the stool. When she perched herself on top, the hat was placed on her head, its wide rim flopping over her eyes. After a second or two, the hat hollered, " _Hufflepuff_!"

Huh, that hadn't taken long at all. 

The girl scrambled off and excitedly skipped over to the table that clapped for their newest addition. McGonagall hadn't told them where to go and what to do after they got themselves sorted, but she hadn't scolded the kid for running off on her own. Maybe they did just go to their respective House table afterward? For that matter, how'd the girl know how to do that?

“Bones, Susan!”

" _Hufflepuff_!"

“Boot, Terry!”

" _Ravenclaw_!"

Like the Hufflepuff table, the Ravenclaw table cheered for their first-year as he slipped off the stool to join them. 

Hajime watched curiously as the next child was summoned to the stage. How was the hat able to determine their personalities so quickly? Yeah, yeah, magic stuff—Hajime knew about that, but _how_?

Did the hat take a short dip into their memories like skimming through a history book? Or did it snap its metaphorical fingers and somehow just knew who they were as a person? What were the mechanics behind its function? And, furthermore, was his and Komaeda's past life even safe from the hat's prying? 

It wasn't like Hajime could back out on the sorting. He was tempted to go on the tip of his toes and look for Komaeda. He wanted to see what his friend thought about having their lives as Hinata Hajime and Komaeda Nagito being unraveled by a talking headwear. Was he frowning in consternation? Was his expression impassive from his indifference? Or was he smiling, intrigued?

And what could this mean for the two of them? Would they be outed?

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Komaeda sauntered ahead, appearing calm and collected. The hat went on his head and everyone waited. And waited. And waited. Over five minutes must have passed until the hat finally declared, " _Slytherin_!"

Well, that was weird. Before Komaeda, the longest the hat had taken with a kid had been a minute. Was it because the hat had rifled through his brain? Was that what was going to happen to Hajime?

The names went on. McGonagall had moved from the M surnames to the N's, and then, at long last, she had arrived at the P's. 

“Potter, Harry!” she called out eventually. 

The Great Hall fell into silence before breaking out into murmurs. People wondered if what they had heard had been true—was _the_ Harry Potter within their midst? If so, who was he among the first-years?

Hajime was seized by reluctance from having to move. The idea of having his every move watched intently was unnerving. However, not wanting to dawdle, he shifted out from his spot, immediately feeling every pair of eyes zeroing in on him. He coasted across the distance, and, before he knew it, he was planting his rear on the stool, returning the gazes of his captivated audience. 

The hat was placed on his head, its floppy rim cutting his view. 

Ugh. He just realized there had been a handful of children who had worn this hat before him. Weren't the staff worried about them contracting head lice?

"I beg your pardon, but I do not have lice to give away," sniffed the hat. Hajime flinched, not expecting to hear a voice reverberating in his mind. Holy cow, was this really happening?

"Yes, this really is happening. None of the children before you have responded with the same alarm as you have. Then again, you aren't exactly a child, are you? Just like that Malfoy character."

His suspicions were correct! Hajime felt unease well up within him.

"Now, now. No need to worry yourself sick. I won't relay what I know to anyone, not even to the headmaster. You may think of it as doctor-patient confidentiality."

 _You're not a doctor_ , Hajime saw fit to point out.

"You're not one for metaphors, are you?" the hat sighed. "Nevertheless, let's get to your sorting, shall we? You led quite a life in your previous incarnation. I see ambition, but an ambition that was rife with turmoil. There's a hunger for knowledge, but only as a means to an end. At the end of your journey, you exhibited courage and determination despite the troubles that you would face."

Ambition—Hajime's desire to become one of the Ultimates that he had admired so much. Knowledge—finding a way for Hajime to escape Monokuma's twisted game and survive each trial. Courage—because despite having learned the truth, Hajime had hope that everything would turn out for the better as long as he didn't give up. 

"But the one thing that ties all of that together is how hard you have worked towards your goals. Your friends and loved ones have given you the reason to push forward, to have hope. Therefore, you must be a _Hufflepuff_!" 

The hat had announced the last word aloud, inciting a clamor from the crowd, especially from the Hufflepuff table. Hajime slid off the stool, feeling wholly unsurprised by the designation. Yeah, out of all the Houses, he had figured as much. While he wasn't the friendliest, he had patience in spades, which was one of the listed traits the hat had sang for Hufflepuffs. He had to be patient when dealing with the former Remnants of Despair. 

Komaeda was going to be insufferable with his _Harry the Hufflepuff_ comments. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Despair Hajime would definitely be Slytherin, but I see Post-Despair Hajime as a Hufflepuff/Gryffindor.


	4. Chapter 4

Hajime waddled over to the Hufflepuff table. An older student with chestnut brown hair jumped out of his seat and merrily greeted him, shaking his hand so vigorously that Hajime thought his arm was about to pop out of its socket. 

"We are very happy to have you here," Gabriel Truman, the Hufflepuff prefect, enthused. "You'll have a great time here with the Hufflepuffs—that I guarantee!"

"Thanks," Hajime replied awkwardly, feeling equally awkward about how he was a grown man being reassured by a teenager. He took a seat between his fellow first-years—or second-years (they all looked the same)—and turned his attention back to the platform. 

So, as it turned out, Komaeda was a Slytherin and Hajime a Hufflepuff. That...was interesting. Him a snake and Hajime a badger. 

No, actually, it was bizarre. Just what about Komaeda that made him more Slytherin than, say, a Ravenclaw? Yes, he had been rather wily in their youth—enterprising, even—but that had been then and this was now. Prior to their reincarnation, Komaeda had mellowed out with age. He hadn't left behind his hope ideology, but he hadn't allowed it to consume his life anymore. 

Yet, even then, how could any of that be ambitious? In a sense, Komaeda's "ambitions" had been dashed when Naegi had defeated Enoshima Junko and when he had failed to kill off the Remnants in the Neo World Program. To Komaeda, those hadn't necessarily been ambitions; they had been _obligations_. 

Unless, now, Komaeda had something planned? This couldn't be because he wanted to appease his parents, could it?

Hajime hadn't realized that he had been lost in thought until his musings were interrupted by a booming "Welcome!"

An old man with a beard so long that it brushed the floor beamed at everyone, his eyes shining behind half-moon spectacles. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" he said. "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” 

He sat down among the rest of the staff. Hajime's brows furrowed, bewildered by...whatever the hell that was. 

"That's the headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore, for you firsties who don't know," Truman said. 

They had a loon running the school. Wonderful.

Hajime remembered hearing the name Albus Dumbledore here and there. When Hajime had first met Hagrid, the giant had referred Dumbledore to be the greatest headmaster that Hogwarts ever had; meanwhile, Uncle Vernon had called him a crackpot. While it was nice to finally put a face to the venerated name, Hajime was beginning to agree with his uncle's assessment.

Hajime wanted to ask someone what "nitwit", "blubber", "oddment", and "tweak" meant when the surface of the table shimmered like a mirage in a desert. Puzzled, he stared when, in a blink of an eye, a spread of food appeared before him.

He gaped, taken aback. There were dishes and dishes of meat—various meat. Like, they had the whole slaughterhouse worth of meat. He set aside the "how is this possible?" for a moment—the answer was magic, naturally—and settled for the "oh, my arteries".

After ten years as a British boy, he was able to recognize roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, and steak. Now, if they had duck, turkey, and fish, things would have been perfect. They would have the animal kingdom at their mercy.

There wasn't much variety for vegetables: There were potatoes—boiled, roasted, and fried—and carrots and peas. No one touched the peas except for Hajime, who didn't understand the children's aversion to peas. Dudley loathed them and had always shoveled his mound onto Harry's plate whenever Aunt Petunia hadn't been looking. 

"I know who Dumbledore is," one of the tiny children crowed. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! He fought against two the Dark Lords!"

"Yeah, but you know who took down one of them?" someone remarked. Suddenly, Hajime felt the weighted stares of everyone around him just when he was about to spoon peas into his mouth. He slowly lowered his utensil. 

"Is it true that you defeated You-Know-Who as a baby?" the boy across from him asked eagerly. "Do you remember what that was like? How'd you do it?"

"How can he remember when he was a baby?" another snorted.

"I don't know—I thought to ask!"

"What did You-Know-Who look like?" a girl piped up. "Is he as frightening as the stories go?"

"I bet he was incredibly ugly! So ugly that you'd never want to eat again."

Instead of addressing the barrage of questions, Hajime resumed eating. He didn't know how to properly handle inquisitive children, but the best way he knew in not getting overwhelmed was by ignoring them. At least, that was what he usually did with Dudley and his friends. 

"Ooh, can we see your scar?" Without warning, the kid next to him slipped his hand underneath Hajime's fringe and smoothed it back. Hajime stiffened as everyone leaned in to inspect, anticipatory. Their expressions soon fell, however.

"Where's the scar? Is it not on your forehead?"

"But the adults all say that it's on his face. Maybe they lied?"

"Are you really Harry Potter?" one of them inquired askance. 

Not there? Hajime touched his forehead, then remembering the concealing patch that Komaeda had slapped on him. 

"Maybe he's another Harry Potter? I heard that the Potter name isn't all that uncommon in the Muggle world."

"What are the chances that he has the same exact name as the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Should he take it off or leave it on? Hajime considered the pros and cons. There were obvious pros in dodging the spotlight, but what would that do to him in the long run? The truth would be disclosed one way or another. And he was certain that the staff had been informed of his true identity, so it wasn't like he could hide from them as well. 

Hajime sighed and scratched at the edge of the patch. Once he got the adhesion extricated there, he pinched and pulled. The patch remained. He pulled again with a little more force. There was no give. He grimaced. What the heck? What was on this thing? Polyurethane glue?

"What are you doing?" someone asked. 

"Trying to peel off this patch. It's what's hiding my scar," Hajime grunted. 

"Wait, you do have a scar? Why're you hiding it?"

Hajime didn't answer, too preoccupied with how unrelenting the patch was. Freaking Komaeda! Why did he do this to him?

"Here, let me try." The kid on his other side batted his hand away and scrutinized his forehead. "I don't see—oh! Yeah, there's something sticking out." The kid tugged gently. "Huh, it really is stuck."

"I wanna try!" The girl across from him reached over and grabbed his face. She jerked harshly, nearly resulting Hajime to plant his face into his plate. "Ack, sorry."

"Hey, don't manhandle him! Lemme see." An older girl got up from her seat to move towards Hajime. Resignedly, Hajime tilted his chin so that the upperclassman could inspect it herself. She pursed her lips as she experimentally wiggled the loosened flap as though she was repeatedly flipping a switch. "Why do you have this on?"

"To play it low," Hajime replied. "Would be inevitable that my status will be revealed here, though, so I decided to take it off— _yowch_!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She shot him a sheepish smile. "This thing is stubborn. We might want to get a professor for help."

"No need for that. Just—just yank it off. You know, like a bandaid."

"Huh? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just get it over with."

The girl appeared reluctant but complied nevertheless. "Well, if you're sure. Okay, on the count of three. One, two—"

Hajime's head was abruptly snapped to the side, his neck angled uncomfortably. He yelped as his body toppled over and crashed onto the floor. A hot flash of pain throbbed at where the patch was, and Hajime couldn't help but release a groan from where he laid. 

"Oh goodness!" the girl cried. "Are you alright?"

"Stellar," Hajime said through gritted teeth. 

"Heavens! What is going on here?" Hajime sat up to see a short and stout woman marching towards them. Of course, not only did their little performance had garnered the attention of a professor, but also the students. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, whose tables sandwiched the Hufflepuffs, had craned their necks to see what was going on. 

"Professor Sprout! There's nothing to worry about here," Truman interjected. "We're just helping Potter."

"Then why is the boy on the floor?" the woman demanded.

 _Laws of Newton_ , Hajime snarked inwardly. 

"I might have pulled harder than what was necessary," the girl said bashfully. "But we weren't picking on him—honestly! We were trying to remove this—um, this thing." She held up the patch, which was a rectangular film, cloudy from all the skin cells that it had ripped off of him. 

Speaking of which. "How's my face?" he asked, lifting his hair. "Are my eyebrows spared?"

"It's very red, but look at that! The scar is there!" the girl said. "And, um, yes, your eyebrows are still there."

"Really?" The kid from his left shoved his face close to Hajime's. "Wow, it _is_ red. And your brows are bushy."

"All the hullabaloo for this?" Sprout sighed, shaking her head. "Well, at least I'm comforted by the thought that my Hufflepuffs aren't bullying one another."

"Of course not, ma'am!" Truman insisted. "We wouldn't do that, especially with our first-years."

"And I expect it to stay that way. Now, Mr. Potter, how long do you intend on staying on the ground?" Hajime got to his feet and rubbed his forehead. The professor clicked her tongue in disapproval and brushed his hand away. "Let me get a good look at you. Ah, that is quite an abrasion, but we can fix that no problem."

Sprout pulled out her wand and pointed its tip at his temple. Then, with a murmur of a spell, Hajime felt the pain dissipate as a refreshingly cool sensation chased away the heat. 

"Whoa," Hajime said, eyes wide. 

Sprout smiled. "Impressed, are we? You'll be happy to know that you get to learn many spells like that once classes start. That is if you work hard and study well."

"Yes, ma'am," Hajime replied obediently. His mind traced back to what she had said about "her Hufflepuffs". She spoke as though she was in charge of them, not to mention how she was the only professor who had approached their table. Out of all the teachers to watch out for the first-years, he had expected McGonagall or Hagrid. That probably meant that Sprout was—what did they call it?—Head of the House.

Sprout's smile broadened. "I expect good things from you, Mr. Potter." And then to the rest of the Hufflepuffs, she added, "And I expect the same for every one of you. I look forward to seeing you in class."

"Yes, ma'am," many of the students chorused. 

Satisfied, the professor ambled back to the table where the staff sat. The upperclassman fussed over him for a brief moment, not unlike how a big sister would with a younger sibling, before leaving him be. Hajime returned to his seat and picked up his spoon. 

"Can we see your scar now?" a child asked. 

Hajime lowered his spoon. 

* * *

The tour of the Hufflepuff Basement dorms had gone without much fanfare (except for the swooping visit from the Fat Friar ghost, who had excitedly welcomed them). The place was located by the kitchen, which meant that it hadn't taken them long to arrive to their quarters, unlike, say the Gryffindors to the Gryffindor Tower. 

They had been greeted by the sight of cheerful yellow hues. Potted plants had been found hanging from the ceiling on their holders, and many were perched on window sills. The ceiling was low enough that someone like Hagrid would have to squat down to fit inside, yet the place was spacious enough to not feel claustrophobic. 

The common room struck Hajime as a cozy, warm place, like a badger's den despite the happy bumblebee colors, and the first-year dormitory was just as so. 

Were the other dorms like this? He wondered how Komaeda was getting himself situated. 

"Our stuff's here!" one of his roommates exclaimed. True enough, their luggage was placed in front of each bed. Hajime neared the bed where his items were placed against and sat down, his weight dipping into the mattress.

He then flopped onto his back, relishing the cushiony goodness that embraced his body. Yeah, _definitely_ better than the board-stiff futon in his old room. 

"I like your owl!"

Hajime opened one eye. A boy with curly brown hair with matching eyes stood at the foot of his bed, peering down at Gundham's cage.

Gah, he totally overlooked Gundham. He was such a neglectful owner. 

"Thanks," he said, pushing himself up. 

"I don't have one myself since my parents think that taking care of one is a hassle. What's its name?"

"Gundham."

The boy looked up to blink owlishly—pun unintended—at him. "What?"

"Her name is Gundham," Hajime repeated.

"That's an interesting name. What does it mean?"

"Generation Unsubdued Nuclear Drive Assault Module," another boy—one with swarthy skin and even curlier hair—provided in one breath. He strode towards them with bright eyes and a large grin. "It's a giant mobile suit used by the military to defend against alien invaders!" he punctuated excitedly.

The other boy reeled back in surprise. "I never heard anything like that!"

The tanned boy blushed and ducked his head. "Um, it's actually a part of a science fiction series based in Japan. No one here knows too much about it, but I'm surprised that you have," he said, glancing hopefully at Hajime.

"Um, yeah, I watch anime," Hajime replied without really thinking.

He gasped, delighted. "Me too! Oh, my name is Wayne Hopkins, by the way. What shows do you like to watch? My cousin likes to send me tapes—he works as a teacher in Japan—and I've seen loads and loads of them! What's your favorite? What character do you like the most?"

"Uh..." Hajime began to sweat. Crap, crap. What nineties animes did he know? "Dragonball?"

If possible, Hopkins's eyes sparkled like he had glitter poured onto them. "I love Dragonball!"

"What's anime?" the curly-haired boy asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

To Hajime's relief, Hopkins pulled his attention away from him and onto the other, launching into an explanation about the gloriousness that was anime. Oh, jeez. This was unexpected, him having an otaku for a roommate. 

"Sounds like a Muggle thing," remarked a boy from across the room. He was a tall and thin blond who looked at them with judgment in his eyes. 

Hopkins blushed again. "Well, it is. Nothing wrong about it, right?"

"No, not at all," he replied dismissively. "I just wasn't expecting Harry Potter to have Muggle interests."

Was this kid implying something? Hajime didn't even realize that ten-year-olds could be so snide. "I grew up in a Muggle home," Hajime elaborated.

The skinny kid opened his mouth to reply, but the curly-haired boy beat him to the punch. "Me too! I'm a Muggleborn, so that's why. I'm guessing that you're Muggleborn too?" He turned his head towards Hopkins.

"Half-blood, actually, but I was raised in the Muggle World," Hopkins replied.

"Coming to the Wizarding World must have been shocking for you three, then," a round-faced boy said. He shrugged his robe off and draped it over a hanger from the wardrobe, which reminded Hajime that he ought to do the same unless he wanted to attend class in a wrinkled uniform. 

"Yes, very! My mum and dad are still unconvinced that magic is real even though a professor has done a demonstration and everything," the curly-haired boy concurred. "I hope that they don't end up changing their minds and send me to Eton College."

"How is it that Harry Potter grew up in the Muggle World? I thought that the famous Boy-Who-Lived would have been adopted by a wizard or witch," the skinny kid said.

"Safety reasons," Hajime answered. Hagrid hadn't explicitly told him the reason aside from him delivering a one-year-old Hajime onto the Dursley's doorstep by Dumbledore's command, but he could hazard a guess. "There are a lot of wizards and witches out there who hate me for killing the Dark Lord. It was better for me to stay in the Muggle World."

Wayne shuddered. "I can't imagine what it's like to have people after your head."

"Just as long as you don't let it _get_ to your head," the skinny kid sneered. 

"Noted," Hajime muttered. This guy was going to be a joy to be around, wasn't he? "Anyway, I'm Harry Potter—"

"We know," chirped the curly-haired boy, not unkindly.

"What are your names?"

"I never told you? Sorry, that was rude of me! I'm Justin Flinch-Fletchley. It's nice to meet you."

Hajime knew the British convention of addressing one another by their surnames, similar to Japan's formalities, but Finch-Fletchley was a mouthful. "Would you be fine with me calling you Justin?"

Justin grinned widely. "You can! Can I call you Harry?"

"Sure. Everyone can call me Harry. I don't mind." They were a bunch of kids; of course he wouldn't mind. 

"You can call me Wayne," Hopkins—Wayne—said eagerly.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan," the round-faced boy introduced himself self-importantly. "If you need help navigating your way in the Wizarding World, come to me."

"Zacharias Smith," the skinny kid grumbled.

"Great. So, Ernie—can I call you that?"

"I don't mind."

"Do you know what wizards do with their owls? Do I just leave Gundham here in her cage or can I let her go free?"

"Never owned an owl before?"

"Muggles typically don't have owls for pets," Justin explained, "much less use them for mail."

"Weird." Ernie crossed his arms. "Well, you can send your owl to the owlery, but you should do that tomorrow. It's already late enough as it is and we have class first thing in the morning."

"So, do I just leave her in her cage?" Hajime looked around. "You don't have owls yourselves?"

"I do." Ernie walked over his bed, reached over, and pulled up a small cage. Inside was a tawny owl, one-third the size of Gundham. "Although, there's no need to release them when there are no letters to be sent."

"Huh." Well, the kid was the expert here. Hajime shrugged and smiled apologetically down at Gundham, who cocked her head before preening herself. She didn't seem to mind. It wasn't as though she had moved much back in the Dursley's—aside from her hunting periods, that was. Aunt Petunia had a conniption over the coughed-up pellets that had littered the floor. 

"Let's get changed and wash up," instructed Ernie. "We have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

If Hajime had thought that Smith had it in for him, then he had forgotten about Hermione. Hermione...whatever her surname was again. 

In the morning, students flooded into the Great Hall with breakfast already waiting for them. A waft of warm pastries enveloped Hajime's senses pleasantly. Aunt Petunia's cooking was fine, but the meals provided by the Hogwart's kitchen staff (if there was one) were on another level; what was more, he could eat until he felt full for once. 

But Hajime wouldn't gorge himself. He had his arteries to think about, after all. 

As Hajime assembled his scrambled-egg-on-toast-with-a-drizzle-of-ketchup (the kids gave him a weird look for that for some reason), he heard distinctly angry stomping coming towards him. 

"Harry Potter," a familiar voice hissed. Hermione So-And-So glowered down at him from where she stood. Her frizzy hair seemed to react in response to her ire because it looked wilder than ever. "You're Harry Potter."

"Yes...?" he trailed off. His roommates observed curiously at the confrontation.

"Not," she continued coldly, "Leon Ludenberg."

Hajime sighed. He couldn't believe that had slipped his mind.

"Look, Hermione—"

"That's Granger to you, Potter," she growled. 

"Look, Granger, I'm sorry about lying to you—"

"I can't see how you're a Hufflepuff," Granger interrupted, tone clipped. "Hufflepuffs are supposed to be honest. You, on the other hand, are a _liar_."

Hajime scrunched his nose at the accusation. "Everyone lies sometimes."

"Yes, but not about their identity."

Oh, please. "I did it for a good reason."

"And what's that?" 

"I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention."

Granger rolled her eyes. "You were going to attract attention regardless! Professor McGonagall announced your name in front of everyone."

"I wanted to be anonymous until then," he clarified. Or, well, expanded on the lie. The anonymity had been planned by Komaeda and Hajime had just played along. "I didn't mean to lie to you in particular. I lied to everyone on the train. I'm sorry if your feelings got hurt." He certainly didn't expect her to take it so personally either.

Granger was still angry, albeit she did appear somewhat appeased. She reluctantly released some of the tension in her body. The way she was poised, it seemed that she had been gearing up for a fight, not receive an easy admission from him. 

(Yeah, like Hajime would verbally duke it out with a brat.)

"Hmph. Fine. I accept your apology, Potter," she sniffed. "I have a question for you, though. Are you friends with Draco Malfoy?"

"Malfoy?" Ernie echoed. 

"No, he just offered me a seat in his compartment. I, uh, lied to him about being Leon Ludenberg, so I'm sure that he doesn't want to be friends with me either," Hajime said, rubbing his neck. 

He saw a flash of relief on her face before she went back to scowling. "That's what happens when you go around lying to people. Next time, think about what you're doing," she said as if she was bestowing him a valuable life lesson. She was, but the question was: Would Hajime take it? She then whirled around, her mane softly bouncing against her shoulders, and marched away with her nose in the air.

With the way she liked to berate him, Hajime was surprised that Granger actually wasn't Koizumi.

"What was that about?" Justin asked, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

"Hermione Granger. I met her on the train," Hajime supplied, taking a bite of his breakfast. After swallowing, he added, "And I introduced myself as Leon Ludenberg, but she's not the only one who I duped."

"Leon Ludenberg?" Smith murmured.

"And you've done the same with Malfoy as well?" Ernie said with a crease between his brows. 

"And his two friends—" What were their names again? "—Vincent and Gregory."

"You're familiar with them, I take it?"

Hajime shook his head. "Nothing like that. They just let me join their compartment. We didn't have much to talk about." That was partially true; Vincent and Gregory had spent his company by snoozing the daylight away. 

"Hm. Well, take it from me, Harry—you might want to steer clear of those three. Malfoy and his goons, I mean," Ernie cautioned. 

So the Malfoys' reputation preceded Komaeda's even before coming here. Although Hajime knew the reason why, he ought to play the part of the clueless Muggle-raised kid. He leaned in, morphing his expression to make him appear intrigued. "Why is that?"

Ernie made a show of looking around. The other boys similarly drew closer. "My family doesn't work for the Ministry like how many pureblood families do, but we're well-respected and well-known for our lineage and contributions to society. My father runs an impressive trading business and frequently makes deals overseas. He says that we're empowering the economy with what the Macmillan family does." 

Ernie preened at his statement. Hajime stifled the urge to roll his eyes. Did the boy see this as an opportunity to brag about his prestige? 

Thankfully, Ernie reverted to seriousness shortly. "That means that we know every pureblood family in Britain and where their allegiances lie. When You-Know-Who vanished, the Malfoys were the first to return to our side, claiming to have been bewitched by him, but everyone knows that's just hogwash."

"Why?" Justin whispered, rapt. 

"Because they didn't need an excuse to support the Dark Lord." Ernie shrugged. "They were never shy about expressing their beliefs, no matter how wrong they may be."

Justin and Wayne drank in Ernie's words like they were receiving proverbs from Buddha himself. Smith, on the other hand, appeared indifferent to the information. Perhaps he was a pureblood himself and had heard this before. 

Hajime chewed on his toast, contemplative. There was something else that he wanted to know, but how should he go about it?

"Malfoy did tell me about the purebloods' stance against Muggleborns," he said carefully, gauging how Ernie would respond to that. 

The round-faced boy made an affronted sound. "Not all purebloods, I assure you," he huffed. "My family supports all Muggleborns and half-bloods. Just because we're proud of our heritage doesn't mean we think less of those who aren't pureblooded."

Did being pureblooded meant that the parents raised their kids to be eloquent speakers? Hajime had never been that articulate at that age. Oh, gosh, this wasn't a world where his near-forties brain was on par with the intelligence of ten-year-olds, was it? Because that would be embarrassing. 

"Do, um, a lot of purebloods not like those who aren't pureblooded?" Wayne asked uneasily. 

"Well, about that..." Ernie waffled over what to say. 

"Yes," Smith answered, speaking up for the first time today. "Some pureblood families believe that magic is stronger when the family line is clear of any Muggles."

"Which isn't true," Ernie interjected hastily. "There's no evidence that proves that's the case." For all his boasting about his grand family, the kid was surprisingly adamant about this. That or he was trying to play it off as the righteous ally to all Muggleborns and half-bloods. 

"I got a question about that. It seems that pureblood families typically marry each other, right?" Hajime said.

Ernie frowned but nodded slowly. "Yes, what about it?"

"Then you are all somehow related to one another, right?"

"I—well, that's right. I had a great aunt who married into the Black family, for instance."

"My mum said that she's from a—a—a, uh, um—oh, an offshoot branch of the Burke family," Wayne pitched in. "I don't get that, but I think it means that she has a little bit of Burke in her. She also said that we're distantly related to everyone."

"The Burke family?" Ernie repeated, astounded. "How did they allow your mother to marry a Muggleborn, then?"

"She said that she—she looped—?"

"Eloped?" Smith filled in.

"Right! She eloped to be with my dad. They fell in love when my mum traveled the Muggle World."

"My parents met in university. They ran in the same circles." Justin looked like he had no idea what he had just said, that he was just reiterating what he had been told. 

"My parents were betrothed from a young age," Smith said. 

"People still do that?" Wayne gasped.

"It's not as uncommon as you think."

Children and their short attention spans. "Okay, so, back to the topic," Hajime steered them back. "If the pureblood families all marry each other to maintain their purity, then are they unconcerned about the problems with inbreeding?"

The boys collectively stared at him in varying degrees of flabbergasted. 

Ooh, was that an untouched subject? Well, since he broached it, he might as well go forth. "Inbreeding," he repeated. "You know, when you create offsprings within your family." 

"It's not like we marry our own sisters," Ernie sputtered, repulsed.

"And there are plenty of pureblood families that we don't have to make babies with our cousins either," Smith added with a scoff. 

Wayne blushed hotly at the "make babies" part while Justin snickered into his hand.

"Okay, fair," Hajime relented. There could be more than a dozen of them for all he knew. "I just thought that the reverse was true instead of what's perpetuated among the wizards and witches."

"The reverse?" Smith narrowed his eyes. 

"If you bring in new blood into your family line, then your children are healthier for it."

"What?"

"Oh, like how mutts have fewer health problems than most dogs," Justin said, perking up. 

Hajime nodded. "Exactly that. Maybe the magic will skip over generations if a wizard marries into a Muggle family, but the descendants will be stronger and better."

Ernie shook his head. "You just contradicted your point. The pureblood families believe in blood purity because they want to retain the magic, not lose it."

"But not all purebloods can use magic," Smith countered thoughtfully. Hajime quirked a brow, not expecting the boy to reinforce his case. "Squibs exist."

"Squid?" Wayne asked, puzzled.

"No, _Squib_. Squibs are people who are born in the Wizarding World but can't use magic themselves."

The conversation soon derailed after Justin and Wayne had asked a few questions about Squibs. Kids just weren't all that interested in carrying intellectual discussions about recessive gene inheritance and phenotypes when they could instead talk about hexing people.

Granted, Hajime wasn't interested in engaging with the children any more than he had to. They weren't that bad—even Smith was amusing with pre-teenage angst—but he didn't do kids. Still, being a kid himself, Hajime couldn't exactly integrate himself with adult society. He had to make do with the rugrats around him.

"So," Hajime began, "what's our first class again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone know the Hufflepuff schedule for first year? There are different variations, and some don't make sense.


End file.
